


Ragnarboth (Feast of the Gods)

by dmarsh14



Category: MarvelWGAU
Genre: Belly Kink, F/F, Force-Feeding, Immobility, Inflation, Stuffing, Weight Gain, belly inflation, belly stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:36:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarsh14/pseuds/dmarsh14
Summary: Sigyn (Darcy) and Loki overstuff Sif and Lorelei, unwittingly awaken the Asgardian Lady of Hunger and have to deal with the consequences.





	1. Feeding and Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy and Loki invite Sif and Lorelei to their home with an ulterior motive: overstuffing the both, until they are fatter than they’ve ever been before.

Loki sighed. At the sound, Darcy looked up from her nearly endless feeding. When dealing with Loki, and now his wife, suspicion was as good as certainty; everyone knew they had interfered with Pepper Potts's feeding drone, and that they, or at least Darcy, had been on Earth to deceive Thor and Jane.

So, they’d been inactive for some time. Let the rest of Asgard, and Midgard, think they were just playing around, and they’d gotten tired of it, so now they were just feeding Darcy ever fatter and enjoying the bounteous results. They'd even gotten Sif and Lorelei to join them, openly. For the feeding games, at least. Even if Lorelei wasn’t quite trusted even yet, Sif certainly was, and she would avow that they were done with their mischief.

“What’s wrong, my love?” mumbled Darcy, her mouth still packed with food even as she gazed over at her beloved husband.

“Nothing,” he said with another sigh, smiling gently this time. “It’s been so long that I feel I’ve almost forgotten it, but I am...content. Happy.”

Darcy smiled, mouth still full to the point of overflowing, knowing that she was a great part, perhaps all, of the cause for her husband’s contentment. Watching him and seeing him openly ogling her, she exaggerated her enjoyment of her feast.

Moaning almost sexually, she stuffed her mouth even more full, stretching her cheeks wider than ever. Loki smiled lustfully, watching intently as Darcy chewed and flamboyantly swallowed the massive mouthful. She leaned back on her eating couch, rubbing all over what little of her new gargantuan belly she could reach.

In the time since they began lying low. Darcy had exploded. Even compared to her weight at their wedding just a year past, that being truly massive, more than 600 pounds packed tightly into the largest gown that could be found, Darcy was now so much more vast. At least 900 pounds now, her body was an amazing spectacle. Even lounging, her belly hung down past her knees, forming a gentle sloping curve above her as deep by itself as the thickness of the rest of her body. Her titanic rear billowed out underneath her, lifting her body up just as much and billowed out at least that on either side of her hips. Her arms formed near-perfect cones from the elbows to her wrists, both joints enveloped by the rolls of pure fat hanging down over them. Her hands were nearly spheres, piled with fatty tissue almost making them useless; the hands themselves just began to cover her fingers, each one bloated to the size of “normal” women’s wrists. Her upper arms were even larger, drooping with flab that wobbled and swayed with her every movement. Her thighs, too, were nearly cones, tapering from her impossible hips down to her knees, buried under the aprons formed of the lower edges. Her calves were impossibly fat, bigger than other women’s thighs, indeed waists, tapering like her forearms to fatty folds engulfing her ankles and covering part of her feet. What could be seen of those feet was round and puffy, like her hands, with pudgy toes peeking out from the rolls upon rolls, wider than average calves, let alone ankles.

Bringing his gaze upwards, Loki drank in the expansive highlands of her breasts, rolling around on the giant curve if her massive belly, bloated with fat until each rivaled the whole body of a toddler. He knew that even he, with frost giant strength, had to work to lift even one from its perch. Her neck sported so many chins that it formed a smooth slope from her shoulders up to her fat face, cheeks so soft and padded that the sagged down over her neck. Her eyes were nearly buried in the fat of her face, and only her lips and usually-gaping mouth were easily visible, ready always to be stuffed with yet more mass to blow her up fatter and fatter. That mouth now clamped tight to keep hold of the truly epic load of food until, straining visibly, Darcy managed to swallow it. As the clear bulge in her neck traveled down, showing the path of the latest addition to Darcy’s immensity, her wicked grin showed that she was exaggerating her efforts to entice him. He threw himself onto her mammoth midsection and crawled up to kiss her deeply, kneading her soft flesh as they drank of each other.

A call from the door reminded them of their plans for the day, and they separated. As Loki went to the door, Darcy struggled to rise from the couch. Even with her new amulet, a gift from her brother-in-law, granting her strength equaling the strongest of Loki’s frost giant kin, she was panting and sweating by the time she levered her massiveness to her feet.

She turned to greet their guests, as Loki led Lady Sif and Lorelei into their parlor.

Darcy welcomed Sif and Lorelei one at a time, embracing them. Well, as much as she could; both of them were only a very little bit smaller than she. They ended up having to grab each other’s forearms as the squashed their massive soft bellies between them. Her greetings done, all three turned to Loki, who was openly ogling them as the basically fondled each other. Laughing happily, Sif and Lorelei hugged Loki in friendship, one at a time, still nearly enveloping him in their flabby folds. Before Lorelei let go, Darcy rushed over and hugged her husband from the other side, burying him within their flab. Darcy whispered a few naughty promises for their night, after their guests went home. As they separated, Loki whispered back, “I’d say I can’t wait for them to leave, but I want to stuff them first.”

Licking his earlobe, Darcy answered, “so do I. So let’s get to it.”

Loki tutted. “Now, now,” he said. “I’m just as eager as you, but we have to be civilized about this.” Turning to their guests, Loki continued, “welcome again, my ladies. Shall we?”

Loki and Darcy led them to the lounge, where they all settled on couches, each with a drink of her (or his) preference. They relaxed a few minutes, sipping their drinks and chatting. Finally, Sif tipped her goblet back, chugging the last of her drink in one long gulp. “Your drinks are fine as always,” she said, “but I feel a hunger for more.”

The other three grinned widely, as eager as Sif for what was next. Lorelei actually spoke up. “Oh, so do I. I’m fair famished.”

Loki rose and gestured to a door opposite where they entered. “Please, ladies,” he invited. “This way.”

The three women struggled to raise their massively fattened bodies up, and went to the door. Crossing to the other room, all of them gasped.

Loki and Darcy had set up three huge banquet tables, each long and wide enough to hold enough food for a full dozen Asgardians for a full feast and overflowing with food and drink, piled three layers deep, each evidently for one of the three ladies. “Will this be enough for you?” Loki teased.

Both Sif and Lorelei laughed joyously. Lorelei said, “maybe, but just barely, I think.” The three women laughed again at Loki’s flush of lust.

“You’re especially hungry today, my love,” Sif said to Lorelei.

“Should we just feed you all of this?” Darcy added, teasing.

Knees weak with desire, Lorelei said nothing, just stared at the impossible bounty. Sif pouted sexily. “I want some if it too.”

“How about this?” Loki asked (presenting the plan he and Darcy had all along anyway). “You three draw lots. The winner is fed as much as she can possibly hold, then second place is fed next. If she finishes, the last will be fed any remains.”

The two guests thought a moment, glancing at each other. Grins grew on their fat faces and Lorelei turned to face Loki. “No cheating!” she said firmly.

Loki put his hand to his chest, saying overdramatically, “my dear lady, you wound me! Would I ever cheat you?”

His wicked grin belied the put-on innocence. All four of them laughed. “Yes, fine,” shot back Sif, still smiling. “But you had best throw the draw my way.”

“No! Mine!” challenged Lorelei.

“Ladies! Ladies!” Loki called, in gesturing a “calm down” way. “Whichever of you win, I promise there will be enough for all of you.” He gave a wink to Darcy; the two of them planned to push their two guests farther than they’d ever gone. They planned to cram a full 1½ of those huge tables into each of their visitors. Darcy had bet her husband that they would succeed in overstuffing both of them to that level, and that they would both be totally immobilized for at least two days by it.

Exaggerating his movements, Loki pulled three straws and showed them to be three different lengths, then placed them in one hand, lining the tips perfectly, before rolling them in his fist to mix them up. All three women reached at once for the straws. When they compared, Lorelei had the longest, indicating she was first. Sif was second and Darcy last. Darcy glared theatrically at Loki, scowling and giving every indication of expecting to have won. Lorelei might have guessed the deeper game, but Sif was fooled, it seemed.

If Lorelei had guessed their real purpose, she certainly didn’t mind. She quickly stripped nude, saying, “even if I’ll outgrow this shift today, I don’t want to shred it,” and sat at the lounging couch at the head of the first table. She grinned gleefully at the others and opened her maw wide as she could, ready to be stuffed as full as she could possibly manage.

Taking her cue from her lover, Sif stripped down too. As they all got ready, Loki couldn’t help stroking all over the women’s massive flab. Of course, he spent more time on Darcy than the other two, but they both got their share of his attentions anyway. That was fine, since Darcy, too, rubbed all over their guests’ gigantic flesh, nearly as big as her own.

Quickly, the three feeders grabbed huge handfuls each and first Loki, then Darcy, and finally Sif each jammed one into Lorelei, so fast that she ended up with all three massive loads crammed in her mouth together. Moaning in lust already, she strained to chew them enough to swallow. Sif especially loved watching the visible bulge (nearly twice normal size) work down her neck into Lorelei’s massive belly. Sif got so worked up that she grabbed a double handful and forced them both in, almost before Lorelei could get her mouth all the way open. Loki and Darcy followed her, again loading Lorelei’s mouth so full that this time she couldn’t even get her lips closed all the way. Gasping around the unbelievable mouthful, Lorelei worked to chew it up. Groaning in frustration that she just couldn’t; it was far too big, forcing her jaws as wide as they could stretch. Familiar with this problem from their own games, Sif smiled and reached right into Lorelei’s packed mouth, physically shoving much of the load right down her throat. With some of it already down, Lorelei managed to chew and swallow the rest.

But Loki and Darcy wouldn’t give her even a moment’s respite; as soon as she managed to down that immense mouthful, they were ready with one just as big and rammed it past her opening lips. A second later, Sif added her own load to Lorelei’s already-stuffed mouth, pushing the massive addition right in and ending with her hands sealing her lover’s mouth, forcing her cheeks out to more than double their usual width.

Faced with an even bigger mouthful to try and swallow, Lorelei nearly choked, but the feeding games with Sif (and previous ones with Loki and Darcy) had let her suppress her gag reflex and taught her to relax her throat muscles. As she did, she reached her hands up and manually squeezed her cheeks down, forcing the giant mouthful right down her own throat, unchewed.

Seeing that, her loving feeders held themselves back a little; after all, Sif wanted her to last as long as she could. (Loki and Darcy, of course, would make her last till this full table, and half the next, was inside her soon-to-be stretched and massive stomach, blowing her up larger than she’d even been before, and they needed her strength and stamina to hold up.) This was a marathon, not a sprint. As her three lovers slowed down, Lorelei realized their aim, and settled in to let them do the work, and let herself passively inflate with food, at whatever pace they wanted.

Even as she settled in for the long haul, first Loki, then Darcy each shoved another double handful into Lorelei, each one as big as both that she’d just downed. And, of course, Sif was there immediately after, stretching Lorelei’s mouth even wider with her own addition. Struggling to even breathe through the massive load, big enough to start to push right down her throat, Lorelei worked her jaws, held apart almost like a bondage open-mouth gag, to try and soften the food to swallow it.

And, again, almost before she opened after that mouthful, all three of her feeders were waiting and crammed her mouth even fuller yet.

By now, they’d mostly cleared off two feet or so of the table, but Darcy had prepared for that, and no matter how much they stuffed down Lorelei, more was always convenient to their eager hands.

On and on they went. Endless food was swallowed, packed, and pushed hard into Lorelei, and after maybe a third of the table’s load, her belly was so swollen and gigantic that she was basically helpless to stop them. Not that she wanted to in the least; she was eagerly trying to speed up her own stuffing even faster. She knew that their hosts had something new and likely extreme for her and Sif, and she wanted to get it as soon as she could.

Nearly an hour later, Lorelei began to feel that her massive, tightly packed belly was reaching her limits. She made a small gesture to her feeders, still stuffing bigger and bigger mouthfuls into her each time, to stop; Darcy cooed to her to relax and enjoy what they had coming. Loki just gave her one of his wicked, sexy smirks. Looking to Sif, Lorelei began to get nervous. Her lover was mindlessly stuffing her, Sif’s movements almost robotic, hands grabbing huge handfuls and moving them to Lorelei’s mouth, still stuffed full from the last one, and pushed them in; then back for another. And another. And another. Sif was barely looking at the food, wasn’t even blinking. Loki (or Darcy) had charmed her! What were they up to? She’d been in on their earlier mischief; now that the heat was a bit less, were they trying to get rid of her so she couldn’t rat them out? With her mouth spread wide open, and stuffed teeth to throat, she couldn’t do a thing to even slow them down, much less stop them.

Seeing the worries echoed on Lorelei’s face, Darcy took a second away from her own stuffing of the woman, and leaned down next to her. “Shh,” she cooed again. “We’ve planned this carefully. We’re taking you, and Sif after you, farther than you've ever gone yet, but you’ll survive it. I promise. Feeder’s honor. Just relax; let us work. It’ll be fine, even fun. Just wait.”

Eyebrows lowered in a glare, Lorelei glanced at Sif, then back to Darcy, who instantly caught her meaning. “Oh,” she answered breezily, “Loki just calmed her mind so she wouldn’t panic. Or stop, until we’re satisfied,” she finished with her own copy of Loki’s wicked smirk.

Only one part of that failed to relax Lorelei. “Until they were satisfied.” Not her, and not Sif either. Who knew how long that would be, or how stuffed she’d get before that happened? Maybe they wouldn’t be really satisfied until she’d really popped like an overstuffed garbage bag?

None of this mattered anyway; she was totally helpless by now; forced to go as far as they wanted, whatever she might wish for. If this was how she would end, she’d enjoy her last ride.

When she came to her peace with that, she began to really relish the eternally growing pressure and increasing tightness in her inflating belly, surging to ever more monumental enormity. She actually started to try and predict when it would finally be too much, too full, too packed, and she’d burst. But every time she thought it happened, her belly merely jerked, and pushed out just a little more, growing and growing, larger and larger, packed as tight as it could be; until yet more was packed in even tighter.

One table eaten, all the food covering its whole surface stuffed into her, and her three feeders paused a moment, admiring their handiwork so far. Lorelei’s belly dwarfed the whole of the rest of her body, obese as she was. It seemed a perfect monument to gluttony and fatness, blown up greater than the entire bodies of the two women feeding her (Loki was so minuscule compared to them that his body hardly counted), and the rest of her own body added in. Darcy’s magic kept the tables anchored so they could reach the food left on it, so Lorelei’s cosmic belly was squeezed below the table, spanning the entire length, sticking out the far end, and bulging out at least a foot between the many legs supporting the tabletop.

Loki had Sif upend the table, breaking Darcy’s spell and freeing Lorelei’s impossibly vast stuffed belly, and letting surge far upwards to a more natural shape. With the magically stabilized table gone, Lorelei’s massive bloated belly snapped to a rounded ball shape, towering high above all their heads, with waves rolling through the tight, overfilled flesh from the sudden ballooning.

Sif strained to push Lorelei’s chair to the second table. Panting with the effort, Sif ever so slowly managed to haul the weight of Lorelei’s mammoth stomach to the other table. Luckily, when arriving finally at the end of it, Lorelei ended up sideways; while her belly could be dragged after her to the second table, it would never have been able to be squished underneath as it had the first. It had ballooned far far too vast for that.

Panting, exhausted, totally immobilized, Lorelei couldn’t do anything but wait for the next feeding that she knew was at hand. She smiled wearily and (she couldn’t actually actively open her mouth, her jaws were too tired) let her jaw sag, opening the maw for everything else they wanted to force into her.

And Loki, Darcy, and even Sif, happily- eagerly- obliged. As soon as she’d been moved, even before she could settle her gigantically-overstuffed body, they restarted her impossible force-feeding. Handfuls after handfuls, the three packed Lorelei’s mouth tight, pushing the previous mouthful right down her packed throat, pushing the food already there down into her full belly, stretching it endlessly wider, higher, and fuller yet.

Eventually, Loki and Darcy were proved right; just as they reached their seemingly-arbitrary goal of 1½ of the tables, Lorelei’s skin was shiny and stretched so close to the absolute limit that it seemed a bit translucent. Darcy noticed it throbbing in time with Lorelei’s speeding pulse. With a glance between them, Darcy and Loki concluded that, possibly for the first time, Lorelei was really at her limit; one more bite- no, one more crumb, would likely rupture something in her belly.

Lorelei herself was so far gone in the ecstasy and wonder at her incredible stuffing that she had long since stopped caring what happened to her; if she popped, she popped. So exhausted that she was nearly unconscious, she scarcely even noticed when they stopped. Darcy leaned down and cooed in her ear, “you’re done now, Lor. See what we’ve done together. See how vast you’ve become.” Lorelei gradually came back to herself, and actually gasped when she saw her planetary midsection. In fact, that was all she could see; with half of the massive feast she remembered from the tables inside her, her stuffed belly was big enough to more than envelop the rest of her, with only her head, from just below the eyes, visible outside her belly. Even her hugely-fattened limbs were covered and hidden by her belly’s swelling progress. Realizing just how cosmically stuffed and obese she was, Lorelei came immediately, sending shuddering waves rolling through her mountainous body.

While his wife was dealing with Lorelei, Loki relaxed his influence on Sif. Gently shaking her head, Sif looked around dazedly, finally focusing on Loki. “What just happened?” she murmured.

With a smirk he hid from her, Loki answered, “it seems that the two of you fell into some kind of trance. Lorelei was so enraptured with eating that she just relaxed and let it happen. It appears that you, too, were lulled by the repetition, and started going on automatic. Do you want to see what we did?”

Still a little dazed, Sif repeated, “did?”

Gently taking her arm and turning her to find her lover, Loki explained. “To Lorelei.”

Just as he said her name, Sif’s eyes found Lorelei. Or, rather, found Lorelei’s stomach. Sif’s mouth gaped in amazement as she swept her gaze up. And up. And up. “We did this?” she whispered, head tilted far back to seek the top rim of the planetary ball that was her dearest love. Unable to tear her gaze away, she asked, “how much did we...?”

Smiling openly now, Loki gestured. “One and a half of the tables we set up.”

Sif’s eyes widened as she tried to comprehend what they’d done to her Lorelei. Her mind really had trouble realizing just how much was stuffed into her lover’s belly, and how immeasurably vast it now was. Her eyes drifted over the empty table(s), then were drawn back, almost without decision, to Lorelei’s impossible immensity. Gently, hesitantly, Sif reached out her hand towards the long, huge curve rising up out of her vision. Stroking it delicately, she heard her dear one moan at the sensations running through her flesh. Sif leaned her head against it, feeling the body heat and hearing her stomach laboring vainly to even start to digest the unbelievable load within.

After a few timeless minutes of enjoyment, Darcy asked her softly, “do you want this for yourself?”

Sif turned wide, amazed eyes to her hostess. “I couldn’t contain this much. I’d burst for certain.”

Rubbing Lorelei’s skin right next to Sif’s hand, Darcy answered, “she did. Why can’t you?”

Loki stood by, waiting to, if needed, nudge Sif to acceptance. But it proved unnecessary. With barely a moment’s hesitation more, Sif cried out, “yes! Oh, I do want this! Make me even bigger than her!” And she practically ran to the other end of the table, and all but threw herself into the second chair, opening her mouth wide and eying Loki and Darcy, urging them to begin her food inflation.

Sif’s stuffing marathon was harder than Lorelei’s, mainly since Loki and Darcy didn’t have help from a third feeder; Lorelei was immobilized by her gargantuan stuffed stomach. But she could (and did) cheer them on, and Sif, too, spurring Sif to outdo her own speed, and race to match her size and fullness. Watching her lover mindlessly feeding on everything that was shoved into her, and her belly inflating visibly as ton after ton of food blew her up, Lorelei came over and over. As did Sif; being fully aware of what was being done to her, and able to glance at Lorelei to see her own culmination in Lorelei’s mountainous belly, Sif moaned around her endless mouthfuls, one climax after another as her belly tightened and the pressure mounted, and mounted, and mounted, growing more intense with each swallow, then when her mouth was too full to swallow for herself, with each surge as Loki or Darcy shoved huge handfuls into her mouth, forcing the rest down her packed throat into her overfilled stomach.

Just as Lorelei had been, Sif was able to, just barely, contain a full table covering plus the half remaining from her lover’s ending. Once Loki shoved the last bites into Sif, and Darcy reached right in her mouth to push it down her throat, the two feeding hosts were so aroused that, with their guests blessing, they had their own consummation right atop Sif’s behemoth belly, so much larger than their bed.

When Lorelei whined about being left out, Loki and Darcy quite happily shifted onto her leviathan stomach for a second round, reveling in the oceanic waves their motions sent rolling around the tightly packed enormity of Lorelei’s new body.

Somewhere not so very far away...  
_*What is that?* she thought. *Such wonderful gluttony, and lust too. I’m not dreaming this time; I know that’s from someone else. Several someones. I think I must rise and find them, and show them what true gluttony really is...*_


	2. Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif and Lorelei pay Darcy back for her overstuffing of them, and Darcy discovers trouble in Asgard

A week or so later, Sif and Lorelei had recovered their mobility, though they both were much fatter from the amazing overstuffing, and were hosting Loki and Darcy at their home. Loki being a feeder only, Sif and Lorelei had planned a long feeding just for Darcy. With Loki’s blessing, and assistance, of course.

Without any pretense or sneakiness, they told Darcy exactly what was in the offing. Hearing their plan, and looking over the vast amount of food waiting for her, as much as two of the tables that had been used for each of Sif and Lorelei, Darcy smiled wide and shuddered lusciously when she saw all that she was to get stuffed into her. Stripping as fast as she could, she settled into the wide wide chair and opened her maw as far as she could, running her hands over her already-expansive body (what she could reach, at least) and eagerly waited for her stuffing to start.

“This promises to be incredible!” raved Lorelei. Sif, trying to play the focused devoted warrior, only smirked, but her breathing was fast and excited, and her eyes roamed over both her Lorelei and Darcy, eagerly waiting. Loki actually rubbed his hands together in glee.

With no more preparation, the three feeders grabbed huge handfuls each and began the feeding, cramming one after the other into Darcy, stretching her jaws wide, and watched avidly, new handfuls waiting, as Darcy struggled to swallow the amazing mouthful.

Treating her as she’d treated them, neither Sif nor Lorelei waited for Darcy to finish chewing; they simply pushed their full hands at her and Darcy opened eagerly, letting them shove her massive mouthful right down her throat to make more room for the next.

And the next. And the next. And the rest. One after another, the three loving feeders stuffed Darcy’s mouth full to its limits, then shoved in even more, stretching her cheeks ever wider and forcing the next load right down into her swelling belly. Bigger and bigger Darcy’s mouthfuls grew as they shoved even more into her. At first, eager or not, Darcy struggled a little as they sped right past her known limits, not even slowing. Glancing up, she saw both Sif and Lorelei with intense looks, not blinking, just like what Loki had done to Sif previously. She thought it seemed a little different, but she couldn’t seem to focus. The next mouthful, larger than ever and ready to stretch her mouth wider, beckoned. Just knowing they were holding huge loads of food, just waiting for her to eat them, pulled her mind irresistibly to the thought of being fed and stuffed beyond her imagination, which was quite extensive on its own.

Even as she looked back to the piles upon piles of food waiting to be stuffed into her, Darcy strained to open her mouth even wider to fit in the next extra-large load. Of course, her feeders were ready with that extra-large mouthful, and another, even bigger, after it. Bigger and bigger her mouthfuls grew, faster and faster they came, and Sif and Lorelei, and Darcy too, only grew more and more eager to stuff Darcy even fuller and fatter.

Minutes later, Darcy felt her belly, stuffed full and tight and still swelling even more every moment, beginning to hurt with its overfullness. She looked to her lover, and tried to get him to rub her belly. Sif and Lorelei were stuffing her faster than ever (as was Loki himself); just the two of them cramming her fuller and tighter would be enough, and she wanted Loki’s hands on her, soothing her painfully tight, full, and still stretching stomach.

Loki seemed distracted, though, ignoring her totally, where he would normally always pay at least a little attention to how she was doing, no matter how much or how fast he was stuffing in her.

Glancing quickly at her other feeders, Darcy saw that both Sif and Lorelei were intent on their feeding, not blinking or sneaking lustful glances at each other as they usually did. They just kept on stuffing her unthinkingly, almost robotically. Curiously, Loki also seemed intensely focused on the feeding, not sparing her a single look as he endlessly rammed bigger and bigger mouthfuls into her. Darcy realized that the each mouthful, from each feeder, was already bigger than anything she’d had before. Surely, the three together shouldn’t even fit inside her mouth, let alone get chewed and swallowed as she was doing.

She noticed that, gradually, they began to feed each other as well as her. Even Loki, and he was the only purely feeder among them; he didn’t eat and grow himself, he did it to others. Something was indeed wrong here. 

Darcy did a quick magical scan (as hard as it was to focus through her stuffing) and confirmed that all three were enspelled. Worried, now, Darcy worried that she might be stuffed tighter and fuller and huger until even her massive belly burst. Knowing that, even if that was the goal, her gargantuan body still had a lot of time until she would be in danger, Darcy expanded her scanning to locate the source of this entrancement. No luck. The source of this, whatever it was, was outside her (admitted still short) scanning range.

As she returned her attention to her feeders, Darcy noticed that Sif and Lorelei, and Loki too, stuffing themselves and each other (and Darcy too) faster and faster. That clinched it for Darcy. She had to try and find out what was going on.

Looking around (as much as she could), she saw new foodstuffs appearing to replace what was forced inside her, and the others. Under other circumstances, for instance if Loki were making this happen, Darcy would be vastly enjoying it. But, with no idea where the magic was coming from, or how to control it, Darcy knew she had to search out the source of the strange spell.

With a purely internal sigh and one last, longing gaze up at her overstuffed, and still inflating, feeders, inflating themselves with food as much her, Darcy struggled to get herself up out of the feeding couch and try to stand, even while the other three kept ramming more and more into her still-open mouth.

Finally, she managed to extricate herself from the feeding. As she finally stumbled to her feet, her three feeders promptly ignored her and focused on each other, cramming more and more into themselves and each other faster than ever.

Darcy strained her own magics to resist the siren call of the unending stuffing that awaited her. Whatever spell was active pulled away from her, and she mentally thanked Loki for teaching her to resist such spells as he himself could work; he’d wanted none to enspell his wife (except perhaps himself). As she pulled free, Darcy suddenly had to work to swallow the last gargantuan mouthful stretching her jaw painfully wide. Determined, she managed that too, pushing her completely packed and taut belly out just a little farther as the massive mouthful pushed its way down.

A tearing sensation in her belly warned Darcy that her stomach was stuffed fuller and tighter than it had ever been before, and with the spell, whatever it was, not supporting and helping her, she was stuffed to her absolute limit, and perhaps beyond.

With a sigh, Darcy cast the one spell she’d never intended to ever use. She annihilated some of the food pressing her belly outwards beyond even its limits and she instantly shrank back down to her normal 850-900 pounds. Then, she waved a thin dress over her body that covered none of her bulging fatness, and set out to discover what was happening. And if she could use it on herself. And anyone else who might catch her, and Loki’s, fancy.

She hadn’t gone far when he encountered more “trouble;” in fact it was the dwelling next door. Hearing some familiar noises, she went to the entrance, found it open, and peered in. She saw the couple who lived there sitting at their own table, piled high with food of all kinds, themselves intent on stuffing as much into their mouths as they could, as fast as they could. Glancing around her to make sure no one was watching (you couldn’t be too careful about entering people’s homes uninvited, especially when you’re not trusted for, well, perfectly valid reasons), Darcy walked inside.

The two reacted not at all to her presence, even when she waved her hand before, first the man’s, then the woman’s eyes. Not even when she grabbed a huge handful in each hand and pushed each one into her own mouth at the same time. Smiling eagerly, she took more and crammed those in right after. They only reacted when she took her next two enormous handfuls and shoved them into her new partners’ mouths. Grinning widely now, she stepped between the two and took still larger handfuls, now sharing them with her partners as well as herself. Not wondering how her hands could hold such massive amounts, Darcy shoved them into her new feedees’ mouths, instantly stretching their cheeks wide and full as the two tried (and succeeded, surprisingly easily) to chew and swallow. As she went on and on, cramming more and more into herself, alternating with the pair on either side, standing between them let Darcy enjoy their swelling bellies as each bite pushed them out, fat and billowing around her own engorging body. The other two began to stuff her as well as themselves, even as she kept feeding them both.

Her mind narrowed its focus, only caring about stuffing herself and this anonymous pair ever fatter and fuller, and being stuffed by them, feeling their soft bodies swelling around her own, encasing her quickly-fattening body in luscious heavy fat, her own as much as theirs. Distantly, Darcy remembered Loki doing this to her, even as she kept stuffing her new partners. As her mind tried to remember why Loki was so important to her, her hands sped up still more, alternating between feeding herself faster and faster and packing her new receptacles of food even more full. Soon, just as back at Sif’s, she was going faster and using bigger handfuls than she’d ever managed.

Even as Darcy’s eyes watched and marveled at her massive loads and the sheer speed, her hands, and her new partners’, kept going faster and faster. Eventually, Darcy paused as the impossibility of it all finally broke into her consciousness. There was no way they could be going this fast. That surprise, and her memories of Loki, snapped her out of her hypnosis. Struggling to get her heavily stuffed belly out of the entangling fatness that still felt welcomingly heavy, soft, and warm, Darcy tore herself free and got to the door.

She paused, panting with the effort it took her to get even that far. Glancing back at the two, now feeding themselves mindlessly again, Darcy still felt the pull to join them. She wanted, no needed, to be stuffed by them and to stuff them endlessly again. She had to fight her own feedee needs as well as the foreign influence to stop from throwing herself back into the orgy of food. Shaking her head to pull herself loose, she jerked herself away from the door, having to consciously remind herself of her immediate goal.

Through Asgard she went, seeing and hearing mindless stuffing, of self and others, everywhere she went. Each time, she had to stop and force herself to not join in. She wanted to be crammed endlessly full of food, and more food, and more yet, so badly. Even noticing the difficulty of resisting, and the thought that it was clearly an alien influence, didn’t make it easier to stop it.

She came to notice a pattern; there were notable differences in fatness in different parts of the city. Deciding that the fattest ones were either feeding and swelling faster or had been at it longer (or both, she added with a mental smirk), she followed the path of hugest, and fastest stuffing, people.

As she went along, the figures, both men and women, that she saw as she glanced in windows and doors were becoming truly incredible. Bigger than even she had ever managed to reach, bigger even than herself and Lorelei and Sif all together. Finally, she couldn’t even see inside the buildings; huge walls of overstuffed bellies blocked every window.

When Darcy realized that, she paused and pulled open one of the homes’ doors, curious to see what she could of the occupants. As soon as the door unlatched, it flew open, pushed by the inflating wall of fat that exploded through the doorway. As fat as she was and as packed full her belly was, Darcy couldn’t react fast enough and was nearly engulfed underneath the wave of flab. On her back, buried up to her neck, she struggled to fight her way free. Once back on her feet, she gazed in wonder at the literal wall of flab before her. Nothing of the person could be seen past the incredible mass of flesh bulging through the doorway. Even as she watched, Darcy could see it expanding more, in little bursts, as its owner was likely cramming more and more food into themselves, or was having it done to them. Or both. The sheer volume of food needed to visibly expand this planetary ball of fat staggered Darcy, and made her envious of the owner of that wall of fat. Looking around the wall of the house, she saw bulges of fat pushing out of every doorway and window. 

Darcy reached out and gently, lovingly, rubbed the sloping obesity, feeling the silky warmth under her hands, reveling in the thought of how much feeding went to create this delicious immensity. She had to focus her willpower as much as she ever had just to keep from joining in right there. Tearing herself away from the wondrous belly (she supposed; it could have been any body part, blown up inhumanly fat), totally removed from even a person, reduced to the result of endless, impossible stuffing, she went on searching for the cause of this.


	3. Meeting Lady Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy finally meets the feeding goddess, and has to save Asgard

Resisting the pull of endless feeding, of others (any others), and of herself, Darcy neared her destination. The sizes and weights exploded exponentially as he neared, so she knew he was going correctly. Odin’s palace. She should have expected it. The building could barely be seen through the many flesh domes projecting from, and covering, it, and still expanding outwards visibly. The sheer amount, and speed, of the feedings necessary to make these bodies inflate so fast! Darcy thought. Shaking her head, both in admiration of whoever it was that managed this, and to try to keep her thoughts her own, Darcy searched for a way in.

Finally locating a door that seemed less blocked than most, Darcy squeezed her way between two warm, soft walls of flab, pushing her own massively obese body through towards Odin’s throne room; she supposed that whoever was doing all this would have taken it over. As the endless feelings evidently continued, the flabby bodies around her pressed tighter and tighter against her own; soon, it took most of her amulet-enhanced strength to force her way onward. Suddenly, the fleshy barriers curved away, and Darcy stumbled out into the relatively open throne room.

Scanning the room quickly, Darcy saw many courtiers now sprawled in the floor, buried under their own bellies, swollen unimaginably and spreading mostly outwards, forming the walls of fat she had squeezed through on her way in. As her gaze moved towards the throne, he caught a glimpse of both Odin himself, and then Frigga, both barely recognizable underneath bellies so vast that they almost completely covered the people beneath them. The rush of feeding lust when she saw who she rather thought of as ‘mother’ inflating with unending stuffing of herself didn’t quite shame Darcy, but it did remind her that she was likely facing someone with equal (or near-equal) control over others’ minds and emotions as Loki had.

Pausing at the doorway, she turned her thoughts back toward Loki, Sif, and Lorelei. Sure enough, she could see them still stuffing themselves faster than ever, Loki now feeding himself just as fast as Sif and Lorelei, and stuffing food into them as well. All three were mutually stuffing each other and themselves, and with the head start that Lorelei and Sif had already, they had ballooned to nearly match the fattest figures that Darcy had met as he roamed through Asgard. Darcy’s practiced eye saw that all three, while immensely stuffed and impossibly fat, and growing ever fatter yet, their bellies weren’t (quite) taut and packed full; they had more time until they were at risk of bursting. Still, at the rate they were going (and Darcy noticed that they were steadily speeding their stuffing, even as she watched), she needed to see about giving them back control of themselves so, if they wished, they could stop. And while Darcy loved Loki and actually kind of liked him getting stuffed and fattened, she much preferred him doing it to her.

Almost an afterthought, she tried to turn her attention to Jane (now Valkyrie) and Thor, safe and secure on Earth. She couldn’t quite reach that far to view, but she expected they were probably feeding her; they did that so often. Or they were playing “hero,” him with the Avengers, and her with her new group of supersized heroines. A thought occurred to Darcy, and she quickly used one of the magics Loki taught her, one of his favorites actually, constructing an image of herself, this one with a specific message, and dispatched it to Earth. She wasn’t sure if it would be trusted, or if she’d even need help, but what could it hurt?

Finally looking up to the throne, Darcy saw the author of all this excess. She couldn’t be sure even that the woman before her was sitting on the throne, or even that the throne was still there; the bloated figure that covered— engulfed— the throne, in fact covered the entire dais. Glancing down at her own vast, massively fat body and back up to the immensity before her, Darcy marvelled anew. This woman (Darcy was certain, even though all of her physical features were buried beneath fat upon fat and hidden in her rolls and waves of flab) dwarfed even her body to insignificance. At a quick estimate, Darcy guessed that the gargantuan mountain of fatty obesity before her could fit her own whole body three times over. Another quick ogle, and Darcy reconsidered; maybe four times.

Food of all kinds floated all around her, and with the slightest gesture, they flew into her mouth. A second or two of chewing, and a visible bulge easily the size of Darcy’s whole head went down her throat. Just that (relatively) small mass somehow bulged the woman’s body out just a little, but clearly visibly. Another gesture, and the food would fly to, and into, others in the room. They too would chew and swallow, and balloon.

Forcing down a pang of envy at both the magic that got such weight gain from such little food, and the ability to eat such mouthfuls with no effort, Darcy called out to the vision of gluttony, “who are you and how are you doing this?”

It seemed to take her a moment or two to realize she was being addressed. All the while, she gestured more food into her gaping maw, which was instantly replaced by new food. Even when she finally spoke, she did so through a steady stream of food down her gullet. “Why are you not eating? Aren’t you hungry?”

As Darcy heard that, she suddenly felt starving. Her stomach rumbled loudly, feeling cavernous and empty. With a smile, the woman sent some of her food towards Darcy’s mouth.

Instinctively, Darcy opened wide to accept the gift, chewing surprisingly effortlessly and swallowing the impossibly large mass. Instantly, she felt heavier, and looking down, saw that her already-vast body had expanded visibly just from that one mouthful. Looking back, she saw another, larger load coming at her and she gaped wide again and let it fly right down her throat. Over and over, one huge mouthful followed by the next, larger one, and Darcy was inflating faster and farther than she’d ever managed before.

Now a steady stream of nearly continuous food pushed through her wide-open maw and down her throat, stretching it as wide as her whole head with the unending volume forcing its way down. Darcy tried to focus, tried to pull herself out of the feeding trance, and eventually she did recover her mind and was able to think about what to do about this. But, try though she did, her mouth would gape, her throat would swallow, and her body would blimp. No matter her will, no matter the effort she put forth, Darcy could not stop eating. More and more pushed into her, fatter and fatter she grew. There was no end to the stream of foodstuffs, there seemed no limit to her own obesity. The woman’s powers made her feeding effortless and so much more fattening than anything she’d had before.

Her mind screaming in frustration and, honestly a little fear, Darcy’s body kept eating, and swallowing, and ballooning. She kept trying, believing that if she just kept it up, she would, somehow, be able to force that woman out of her mind and take control again of her eating.

On and on she went, food upon food cascading into her, her body completely ignoring her efforts to regain control, and bloating larger and fatter every moment. Already fatter by far than she had ever been, her body swelled even more. Long since immobile, the only movement left to her was her eternal swallowing, and inflating with blossoming fatness.

Finally, the woman shifted her galactic bulk (still larger than Darcy, though she thought she was catching up fast) and spoke. “To answer your questions,” she said between and among her endless stuffing, “I am Frugrad, and I’m doing it because this is who I am.”

Listening to the woman actually help Darcy recall herself. Frugrad, she thought, remembering what Loki had taught her of their language, Lady of Hunger. Well that explained things. 

Trying to focus, she made another image of herself, looking as she did normally, about 850-900 pounds and wearing her green armor, but without the mask and unarmed, standing near the woman. She made it speak and act as though it was herself. That, too, had another, subtle purpose. Besides communicating with this Frugrad, the effort to keep the image functioning made her concentrate, helping her resist the woman’s feeding powers.

“Who you are?” the image asked. “What does that even mean?”

Surprised by the speech from her other side, Frugrad glanced that way. Still a bit envious, Darcy realized that she probably would have whirled around, but she was totally immobile, even moreso than Darcy was.

With a sidelong glance at the real Darcy, still being stuffed without end or respite, Frugrad spoke to the image. “I am the force of hunger. I am the embodiment of unsatisfied, unsatisfiable craving for food and drink. Odin feared that I would interfere with his conquering by keeping his people fat and happy. He imprisoned me and proceeded to conquer all the Nine Realms.”

Darcy asked, both trying to occupy her (though not yet quite sure what she was going to do) and genuinely curious, “you’ve been imprisoned for millenia?”

It seemed like Frugrad smiled, though it was hard to be sure with her mouth still crammed with endless enormous amounts of food, feeding herself, and everyone else, faster than ever. “Yes, though he tried to use me after he became more enamored with peace and tranquility. He took some of my powers to himself and used it for the many feasts he declared, celebrating his victories, and his peace.”

Tied directly to Darcy, the image nodded. “I suppose that let you weaken your prison and influence others.”

Now openly gloating, Frugrad actually stopped eating for a moment (she still kept stuffing everyone else), answering “and eventually regain complete freedom of action. Now, I am free to envelope all the Nine Realms in gluttony, and obesity.”

In general, Darcy loved that plan, but she was not at all happy about giving up control of her own body, and of her eating. Well, except sometimes when Loki, or Sif and Lorelei, would forcefeed her, but still they decided what would happen. And she would get control back after. At least till the next feeding, she thought with a smile.

With her body endlessly stuffing itself, essentially on autopilot, Darcy hadn’t really noticed her inflation. Glancing down, all she could see was her own breasts. Their own immeasurable size was huge enough, but they were also pushed tight up against her face by her cosmic belly, nearly suffocating her with the soft, pliable fat. Craning her neck, Darcy could just see the curve of it beyond her massive bosom, seeming to reach nearly to the ceiling of the three-story throne room. Understanding the physics, Darcy realized that to reach that high, it must also be stretching outwards from her torso by several yards. Trying to flex her arms or bend her knees proved impossible; either the gargantuan obesity enveloping them, or simply their own bloated immensity, or both, held them completely immobilized.

And still more food managed to find its way to her mouth, and down into her tightly packed stomach. She suspected that no matter how much fatter she grew, the food would force its way into her, blowing her up, larger and fatter and heavier, forever. Already, she was little more than a sphere of pure fat, her four limbs and even her head completely buried under her layers and layers of fat.

Fortunately, she could see as well as speak through her image. Turning it to face herself, Darcy saw that her assumption of her size was very wrong. She was barely inches from the walls nearest her, and while her mountainous belly wasn’t really so close to the ceiling, it was much higher than a single story. And the fact that it was real, and it was her own body, sent a shivering climax through her towering flab. Through the image’s eyes, Darcy saw the ripples of ecstasy wobbling over her whole body. They lasted several minutes after her orgasm faded, and the sight, and the feel, of the continuing wobbling of her immensity sent her into another. And though it all, she was still inflating with food and fat, visibly swelling bigger and fatter with every second of consumption, eternally with no slowing or rest.

Finally forcing her attention back to Frugrad, Darcy saw her smile smugly. She knew exactly what had just happened! Somehow, knowing that filled Darcy with indignation, and she was able to focus on her goal again.

Exerting the influence over emotions and perception that she’d learned from Loki, trying to nudge Frugrad as subtly as she could, Darcy spoke again. “Would it be better, more, I don’t know, fun to have people see you, and your joy at your endless feast, and ours, too, and have them beg you for help? They’ll know you then. They’ll love you for what you do to them. Most Asgardians now don’t even remember you, and probably don’t know why they’re doing this. Many of them aren’t even aware of themselves anymore. How can they appreciate your gifts like this?”

Frugrad only answered, “I don’t need their praises, or appreciation. I only need their fat, and their feeding.” Then she sped up Darcy’s consumption. Looking around through her image, she saw everyone else speed up at the same time.

Well, she thought, there went that idea. She wondered idly whether Loki would have succeeded. Or if he’d try to. Vaguely, she realized she wasn’t even chewing anymore. There was just a solid stream of food entering her mouth, pushing down her throat, and inflating her stomach, and the rest of her too, steadily.

Just then, she felt part of her soft fat press against the walls on two sides of her. Shortly after that, she felt pressure of other people’s fat as it pressed in on her own expanding obesity. She felt sure that Frugrad would prevent serious injury, even from squeezing by other fatty behemoths, or from walls collapsing, unable to keep the bloating fat contained. She did want the palace to survive, though. Assuming everyone (anyone?) got out of this, rebuilding the whole palace would be extremely tiresome.

Still inflating with fat and endless food, and faster than ever, Darcy had to admit that she was distracting herself. She had no idea what to try next, and while she did believe that no one would pop from overfull bellies, she was starting to lose interest in eternal feeding and fattening. Not that she could stop it anyway.

Suddenly a powerful blast blew the ceiling apart, sending jagged pieces falling onto the gigantic bellies below. It seemed that none of the owners of those bellies even noticed as the slabs bounced off and fell to the floor, whether from their own fixation on the stuffing they endured, or from the relatively tiny size and weight compared to the cosmic fat of each body.

Instantly after the ceiling was split, Thor and Valkyrie landed in the small part of the floor uncovered by swollen flesh. Darcy actually gasped around her endless stream of fattening goodies; Jane was massive! She’d grown nearly as vast as Darcy herself, her belly billowing out as far in front of her torso as the thickness of the torso, itself far larger than any “normal sized” woman, even with the new “normal” that Frugrad’s lengthy influence on Earth’s women (and people in general) brought.

The last time Darcy had really looked at Jane was at their endless wedding feast, when they had chosen sides, even if neither one had realized. True, she’d encountered her again with the feeding robot, but Darcy had been far too busy to really ogle her former boss. And still friend, if she had to be honest.

Since then, Jane had blimped impressively. Her body was almost spherical, fat rolls cascading front and back, with her neck rising from the very center in a gradual slope. It seemed likely she wasn’t raising her arms on purpose; they just rested nearly horizontal on her wide body. Her legs, what could be seen under the aprons of fat belly in front and the giant ass behind, nearly as big itself as what Darcy could remember of Jane’s whole former body, billowed out immediately from her ankles (themselves tiny aprons spilling over her feet) to a width of many women’s thighs. And they only expanded from there. Standing next to her boyfriend, she totally hid him behind her massive bulk. Darcy couldn’t figure how Jane’s cheeks, bloated nearly as spherical and ponderous as her body, could permit speech, but she somehow made herself understood. “You there! Free these people at once!”

Frugrad barely looked at her. “Another who tries to stop me? Why not eat, instead?” And with an absent gesture, she sent food flying at the two would-be heroes. Thor fell victim instantly, as the supernatural hunger took his mind and the river of food began. In moments, he was buried under his own inflating belly, already burst from his armor. Unable to resist, he simply left his jaw open wide and let the endless feast blow him up fatter and fatter.

Jane, more used to such things, let the food flow into her too, and with her Valkyrie powers, still kept to her feet and advanced on Frugrad, step by slow ponderous step, slowing gradually as her belly swelled.

Finally, she fell immobile as her ballooning belly completely engulfed her legs and feet. She was a gigantic lump of fat, unable to move the least, as her legs, and her arms too, became buried under her still-inflating flesh. Grinning evilly, Frugrad only sped up Jane’s stuffing, engulfing not just her limbs, but her head too. Frugrad was able, as with Darcy, to keep the endless food pushing through the soft folds to pack into Jane’s stuffed body, packing even tighter around her limbs and head, and making her nothing but a living monument to extravagant gluttony.

With a feral smile of her own, Darcy used the distraction Jane’s melodramatic entrance caused to exert her powers as never before. So quickly as to be almost simultaneous, she destroyed her own excess tonnage to match the appearance of the image she had used to talk, and hid herself to move to its location, ended that image, and made another of herself blown up to the incredible size Frugrad had made her and receiving Frugrad’s feeding.

To Frugrad’s view, nothing would be different (she hoped), but Darcy was now free, mobile again, and disguised as her own phantom. She stood still, maintaining the illusion.

Now, what the Hel could she do with it? Jane was just as helpless as everyone else; it seemed Darcy would have to fix this.

Looking around the chamber as she thought, Darcy noticed something interesting. Now that Frugrad was focusing on Jane, the feeding of the other people in the room was slower. Looking at her own image, Darcy saw the same thing. Projecting her mind to link with it, she confirmed it was much slower than it had been, but still going steadily.

Now that she was thinking clearly again, Darcy suspected that the new obese-friendly environment of Asgard, and Earth, and other places too, that she’d heard rumors about, was likely due to Frugrad’s subtle influence. It might come about that, if she ended Frugrad entirely, thing might return to before her influence had spread.

That got Darcy wondering, was her own love of her own fat, and growing, body only because of this momentous woman? Was her love of feeding, and feeding, and feeding, and growing fatter and fatter without end, because of this woman’s interference in her mind? Would it have happened to everyone; Jane, Pepper Potts, Betty Ross, all of them? Was Frugrad causing it all, manipulating the entire world, all the worlds, to make them like this?

Even knowing her own thoughts might be altered, without her own work and prior permission, Darcy still thought she was quite happy. And certainly, her size and his preferences had gotten her Loki. She decided, even if it made her work harder, she didn’t want to completely block Frugrad; she liked—loved her new situation, her new body, and her Loki.

But Frugrad’s basic influence seemed unconscious, and not subject to her attention, exactly. The beginnings of a plan formed in Darcy’s mind.

While the feeding went on, Darcy considered and plotted and schemed. Once or twice, Frugrad started to lose interest in Jane, and began to turn her attention to the others in the room. Darcy darted into her mind (proving to herself that she could) and made her irritated, or even angry at Jane’s resistance to the stuffing.

Jane, of course, was resisting nothing; she was so far gone, buried in her own body, spreading out across the floor. Peeking, just a little, into Jane’s mind, Darcy smiled when she saw that Jane was lost in ecstasy in her endless, infinite inflation. Her wicked grin got even wider when Darcy realized that Jane was orgasming, over and over, while she blew up huger and huger.

Darcy tore herself from the stuffing pleasure of Jane’s eternal feeding. She had a world to save. And influence.

Working delicately, and with more subtle effort than she’d used before, Darcy spoke to Frugrad, trying to be as irritating as she could be, which she knew was very. “My lady, why don’t you let us decide for ourselves, that we want you and your feeding? That would be so much better for you, having our purposeful devotion and appreciation.”

Turning her attention to the only one in all of Asgard to still be able to talk instead of feed endlessly, Frugrad nearly snarled, “I’ve told you, silly girl, I don’t need or want your appreciation, or devotion. I only want your obesity and your eating. Endless eating. I am the force of the universe now, the reason for living. No longer will people eat to live; they will eat to eat. They will feed, and expand, forever. All will be food, and fat, eternally. I am the universe!”

And she sped up the stuffing of all, both her active feedings and those feeding themselves, pushing more and more down the throats, stretching them, out to the width of shoulders, packed tight with food gushing down, flooding stomachs, bodies inflating like balloons, tons piling on every second, endlessly swelling, and bloating, and growing, and growing, and growing…

Darcy rolled her eyes at the woman’s raving. Looking around the room, she saw the food gone, and everyone slowing regaining sense. With a purely mental sigh, Darcy used her latch-ditch spell and annihilated the excess weight of everyone, returning them to normal. Normal for Jane, of course, was well over 600 pounds packing into her bulging armor, but the rest went back to their pre-Frugrad weights. Well, the men did, at least. Darcy just couldn’t waste all that delightful womanly fat, and left most of them around 300-350.

Jane and Thor approached her. Jane, wary of her and their recent history, said cautiously, “how did you stop her?”

Flashing her new wicked grin, Darcy answered, “I didn’t. She’s still stuffing the lot of us, faster and faster. We’ll probably explode the walls of the palace soon, and she’ll keep inflating all of Asgard, all the Nine Realms, for as long as she wants.”

Jane, confused, just stared at Darcy as if she was insane. Thor, more familiar with Loki’s games, smiled. “You’ve trapped her mind in an illusion of her desires.”

Jane suddenly understood. “How long can you hold her?”

Darcy shrugged, sending her still-gigantic fat rolls rippling for several minutes. “She’s not struggling at all. I got enough understanding of her drives to construct a perfect fantasy. It won’t be so perfect that she finds out it’s not real; the only limit is my own strength. And I’ll be asking my Loki for help in setting up a more permanent prison for her, one that doesn’t depend on my willpower holding out.”

“Why not just stop her completely?” asked Thor.

“Because I don’t want her influence over reality to end. Do you?” she finished with a smirk.

Jane gasped. “She’s been doing this that long? My desires, Thor’s…”

Darcy nodded. “And likely mine, and Loki’s, and Pepper, and everyone else. Even knowing that, do you want it to end?”

Both Jane and Thor actually thought for some time. Then they embraced, Thor burying his arms in Jane’s voluminous soft folds, Jane enveloping his body contentedly. “No,” Jane said. “Even knowing it may not be me, exactly, I’m happier this way. I’m a superhero, I and my team help people who need it, and I can’t believe we would have been able to do that, to become what we are, without her.”

Smirking still, Darcy all but crowed, “yeah, I thought so too. So are you going to threaten me to stop this?”

Thor actually laughed. “No, Darcy. I think we’re fine with all this.”

Now grinning wickedly, Darcy said back, “Sigyn. Don’t forget who I’m with.”

Thor got serious. “Never. But, believe me, I never wanted conflict with Loki. I would welcome a return to our childhood closeness.”

Darcy’s face hardened. Jane headed her off. “Please, Darcy. We’re not blaming Loki. Not entirely. We had our part in it, I admit. Outside circumstances pushed things too far, too. You know that.”

“Really,” Darcy scoffed. Seeing their faces, she added, “I’ll see if he’s willing to listen. We may be interested in something like that.”

Throwing his arms around Darcy (well, as much as he could manage) in a hearty hug, laughing loud and long. “We must return to Midgard. Good fortune to you, and to my brother. We will wait for your message.”

Over the next weeks, Loki and Darcy worked out a way to maintain the binding on Frugrad for the long term. Loki, Sif, and Lorelei needed some time to return to mobility, and their desired weights. Darcy didn’t even bother to offer her reduction spell. She knew them well, and knew that they wouldn’t want it gone too fast, mobility or no. Even Loki gained (heh) an appreciation for being fat beyond just feeding others. He did express reluctance to repeat it; he still preferred feeding her, and others, rather than being fed. And now, with Frugrad contained again, they could safely do just that.


End file.
